


Thoughts and Wishes

by Kat_Greenleaf



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Caring Wanda Maximoff, Gen, Hurt Steve Rogers, Memories, Protective Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Wanda Maximoff is a Good Bro, Wishes, and it haunts him, he didn't get it, how they might work, sad Steve Rogers, steve wanted a life with peggy, this is my take on her powers, wanda's powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 08:31:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Greenleaf/pseuds/Kat_Greenleaf
Summary: It’s easy for him to just get lost, she knows. She has seen it too often. And not just from him, either. They all have tough pasts, traumas, dark memories. It’s hard for all of them. But she knows that some of them handle it better than others, whether by having practice holding everything in, or by taking steps, in therapy and such, to overcome those things. She knows he’s tried, and she knows he doesn’t think it works.-After a movie night, the team sees that Steve is lost in his thoughts, much farther gone than any of them can remember seeing him. So Wanda is left to try and help him.





	Thoughts and Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I cooked up as I stayed up to ring in the new year. Happy 2019 everyone, may we all make it out alive.

It’s easy for him to just get lost, she knows. She has seen it too often. And not just from him, either. They all have tough pasts, traumas, dark memories. It’s hard for all of them. But she knows that some of them handle it better than others, whether by having practice holding everything in, or by taking steps, in therapy and such, to overcome those things. She knows he’s tried, and she knows he doesn’t think it works.

This is probably why he loses himself so much easier; so much quicker, and for longer. She knows she can’t really blame him. But she worries. Especially when it’s been hours and Steve is still staring at the wall. Wanda has been sitting next to him since the movie ended. She’s aware that the team left him to her because of her magic, but she is really at a loss when it comes to handling Steve. Sam would be much better for this. He hadn’t stayed behind, though, and that was quite annoying.

“Steve,” she says, for maybe a hundredth time. She isn’t expecting him to answer, though she wishes he would.

His hand twitches, and he sniffles, but it’s not a conscious answer. His mind is far away, and it will stay that way until she draws his attention away from the wall. Her problem is that she hasn’t seen him this deep before. Sure, she’s helped him before - once or twice when Sam wasn’t around. But James had helped him last time, and Wanda remembers helping Tony pick out new furniture for the common area afterwards. She doesn’t want to spook Steve and cause another accident.

But that means she doesn’t know how to get his attention, and _that_ means he might sit like this for hours yet before he snaps out of it on his own.

“Steve?” She scoots a little closer, because maybe the movement will catch his attention. Only, it doesn’t, and he barely twitches this time.

She doesn’t know how to proceed, so she texts Sam. It’s only after it sends that she checks the time and realizes that Sam is probably asleep. He texts back in a few minutes, which she’s glad for, even though his response doesn’t thrill her.

‘i’m at my apartment, i can’t come over.’ Then a follow up: ‘if nothing is working, you may have to go straight into his head. you can do that, right?’

She can, but she wishes she didn’t have to. She thanks him anyways and bids him goodnight. He doesn’t reply in the next few minutes, so she puts her phone away, sighing. Wanda looks up at Steve once more, at his side profile, and prays to any god that will listen that he’ll turn his head when she asks:

“Steve. Are you with me?”

She watches him carefully, but his face doesn’t change and his head doesn’t turn. He’s still far away.

Touching him is a bad idea, so she doesn’t even consider it. She scoots a little closer and raises her arms, careful not to make contact. She focuses on his head, on where his brain, his mind, is. Her fingertips settle an inch from his temple, and she focuses on sending her magic through them.

Her magic. She doesn’t think that term is quite accurate, and she knows Tony would love to hear her say that, so she never does. But it’s more like a never-ending current of energy. She doesn’t know where it comes from within herself, but she can always feel it, coursing through her body until she manages to center it, harness it, and sent it out. It used to be more difficult, but her teammates were endlessly patient in helping her train. Now, the only trouble she has, sometimes, is directing the energy once it leaves her.

It’s easy at small distances. So pushing it into Steve’s head takes little to no concentration at all. Navigating his mind, on the other hand, forces her to close her eyes and really think.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get over how odd a person’s subconscious mind feels. It is a complex space to navigate, and she must close her eyes and have darkness or she won’t be able to concentrate. She knows that otherwise, she may find something she doesn’t want. Her energy works like, perhaps, a television cable. Unless everything is plugged in, there’s no picture. Her presence in a person’s mind is enough to give her a sort of static, to get impressions of memories and thoughts, or real time sensory reception. But her energy can ‘plug in’ to a strong impression and her mind becomes connected, creating the other person’s thought as a full image in her own mind.

The strongest impressions are whatever the other person is already focused on, and are the easiest to access. She thinks that it’s like a magnet, drawing her focus. In other cases, she’s had to resist the pull in order to search a person’s mind for something repressed. She helped James that way. It had been a good exercise for her control. But now, in Steve’s mind, she lets her focus be pulled and drawn, guiding her to Steve’s focus, deep into his memories and his imagination. Wanda takes a deep breath to center herself. Even though these are not her own thoughts, once their minds connect, it will be possible for her to become lost in his head, just as he is. That is dangerous. It raises the possibility that neither of them will be able to wake up without another intervention.

She is glad when she remembers that FRIDAY is watching, able to monitor brain waves and realize if and when the situation becomes dire. The AI will be able to contact Tony, or maybe even Dr. Strange for help.

Her confidence renewed, Wanda allows their minds to connect.

Color bursts through the darkness, and she can see the ideas flowing through Steve’s mind. It seems he is daydreaming. She feels his wistfulness, as if he wishes this were one of his memories.

She sees men sitting around a table, drinking and singing merrily with the rest of the crowd in the bar. Several newspapers are being flung about, headlines crying “VE DAY.” At the head of the table sits Steve and a woman; a brunette with bright red lipstick, and a wide smile as she looks fondly up at Steve. He gazes back, eyes just as soft.

A figure at Steve’s other side flickers in and out of the picture, as if Steve is trying to decide if he should be there or not. Finally, the image does stick, and the man comes to life, playfully heckling Steve and the woman.

After a moment, Wanda realizes she recognizes the man. It’s James. His hair is shorter and his eyes are brighter, but it’s him. Which means the other men around the table must be Steve’s commandos, and the woman… she must be Agent Carter.

Wanda feels a pang of her own sadness, alongside the odd sense of melancholy that drenches this, seemingly, joyous vision. Regret begins to dim the colors and sour the smiles, and the scene dulls, fading and blurring until most of it melts away, a new room taking its place.

There is still a table, though it’s smaller, and Steve and Agent Carter are still sitting at the head. Still smiling and gazing, looking happier as some of the colors fade back in, brighter. Then, their gazes turn down and the picture wobbles and flips until Wanda is looking at the most adorable baby. Big, beautiful brown doe eyes and golden, fuzzy hair, and a big smile that makes her cheeks look so chubby and pinch-able.

Immediately, Wanda feels incredibly out of line, and very, very invasive. She needs to make herself known.

“Steve.” She whispers it out loud, just to make sure he hears. To make sure he doesn’t mistake her for something in his vision.

The daydream halts, and then disappears, wrenched away from Wanda’s connection. Everything is dark again, and she hears, faintly, her name, as if it’s bouncing around the walls of his skull; echoing in his mind. He recognizes her voice.

His head shifts enough to touch her fingers, and she knows, then, that she has his attention. So she retreats from his mind.

He’s looking at her know, but she needs a moment, just to make sure she’s centered and settled back in her own mind and body. She opens her eyes, and is shocked to feel tears slip down her cheeks. Steve has matching tear-tracks, and a terribly distraught expression. It’s more than Wanda can bear from him, so she tugs him close, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly.

His response is not immediate, which is not unexpected. Slowly, slowly, his arms raise and settle gently around her middle. He sniffles once, twice, and then holds on a little tighter. When it comes to Wanda, and even Natasha, Steve is always careful about his strength. He doesn’t hold onto her as tight as she holds him, but it is firm and Wanda even dares to call it clinging.

“Wanda,” he murmurs, voice rough and low.

“I’m sorry,” she replies, just as hushed. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” She thinks of the baby and has to take a deep, steadying breath. “Steve…” she sighs. He tenses, but she barrels on, “I know you miss them. Her. I know you loved them.” He hides his face against her shoulder. “But we love you, too. So much.” She bites her lip, “And it’s frightening when you disappear into your head like that. Are we not enough?”

He holds her a little tighter, and that is definitely shocking. But she makes no sound. She can’t have him thinking he hurt her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, a few minutes later. “I love you all, too. I just-” he chokes and stops, shaking his head. He takes a deep breath, and sounds strained when he says, “I just wanted it so, so  _much._ ”

Wanda has to close her eyes against more tears, and she begins to gently pet his hair. She can see them, on the backs of her eyelids; Steve and Agent Carter holding the baby together, looking so happy. She hugs him tighter. There’s nothing to say that will comfort him, and she knows that Steve knows that. So she just holds him.

The longer they embrace, the more Steve relaxes, so Wanda doesn’t let go; doesn’t stop occasionally petting his hair or rubbing his back. At some point she remembers to open her eyes, and she checks the clock next to the television.

It is far too late in the night, and Wanda can feel Steve’s exhaustion. He’s sagging against her a little, now, and she needs him to rest. She starts to pull back, ignoring his noise of protest. She presses a soft kiss to his cheek and starts to ease him back, laying him down on the couch. He won’t make it to his room like his, and she doesn’t want him to be alone. She lays a blanket over him, and takes a second one to wrap around herself before she lays down with him.

Steve frowns, and he starts to open his mouth, but she stops him, her fingers pressing over his lips.

“Sleep. Relax. You need it.”

He stares at her a moment longer, and nods. He can’t argue with her, she won’t let him. She takes her hand away and lets her arm lay across his middle, as if it’s enough to hold him in place. He huffs. And the movement jostles her head where it rests on his chest. But he’s starting to smile, and Wanda can’t find it in herself be even slightly indignant.

His eyes close, and she relaxes. It doesn’t take long at all for his breathing to start evening out, and she feels a bit of pride for being able to help him relax.

“Thank you,” she hears him murmur.

Wanda smiles and gently pats his side, “Anything to help”

Steve’s arm wraps loosely around her back, his hand resting over her spine and his thumb absently rubbing the edge of her shoulder blade. The gentleness and his warmth easily begin to lull her to sleep. She doesn’t fight it, assured that he’s on his way as well. Hopefully, his dreams will be pleasant tonight.

And if not, she will be there for him.


End file.
